The Love Island Bookshop Kate Frost (best ereader for pdf and epub .TXT) 📖

it is just that, a project that needs someone heading it up, leading it and making it work. That person is you.’

Meena left her with the keys to the bookshop and headed through the trees to join the ‘island walk’ path that cut through the centre of the island. It would be Freya’s way back to the staff accommodation later, her commute for the foreseeable future.

Chapter Nine

The next day Freya left the staff village at half nine and took the main path until it split off to the bookshop. Her commute on the Tube was a thing of the past; she almost had to pinch herself. Smothered in sunscreen with a bikini beneath her summer dress, she’d decided to embrace the barefoot vibe. She had nothing with her apart from her mobile and she knew she didn’t even need that. It was more out of habit that she hadn’t left it behind. Usually, her bag would be heaving with her purse, make-up bag, sunglasses (through optimism rather than necessity), her Kindle, tissues, a pack of Polos, at least one paperback, often a manuscript she was in the middle of, and various other bits and pieces she never seemed to clear out of the bottom of her bag. The crowds on the Tube had been swapped for a forest of trees, the gloomy skies of London for the clear blue ones over the Indian Ocean, and the office with views across the road to another brick building for a bookshop with a view to die for.

The trees thinned and the path opened out on to the clearing and the wood-clad wall of the bookshop. Sunshine slipped through from the leafy canopy and as Freya rounded the side of the bookshop, she got her first glimpse of the ocean that day. She glanced at her watch. It had only taken ten minutes to stroll here. Excitement had overtaken the nerves from the day before. She had a whole day to herself to get set up. And when she thought about it, she didn’t actually mind being on her own. She might have left the UK behind conscious of how lonely she’d been, but somehow she craved the peace here. It was a different sort of solitude, one not wrapped in sorrow.

Freya started the day by unpacking the boxes of books and planning the shelf space, placing books in alphabetical order but also giving each area of the shop a designated theme, splitting it into non-fiction, fiction, and travel. Zander had an eclectic taste with a mix of classics, literary fiction, crime thrillers and historical novels, along with a good dose of nature and travel inspired books, but at least seeing his choice gave her an idea of how to balance what she’d want to order with what he might approve of. The pale driftwood shelves slowly began to fill with colourful spines, turning the place from a beautiful but empty shell into a dream space. The place began to smell like a bookshop too, and even though it was new, it felt familiar and comfortable to be surrounded by so many books. Ever since she was little, libraries and bookshops had always been her happy place, and it was the same working in publishing, her desk always had a stack of paperbacks on it and a manuscript or two waiting to be read. There was something so very exciting about not knowing if she was about to discover a brand new voice and launch someone’s career.

Freya took a break and went outside. The air smouldered with the midday heat. The trees surrounding the bookshop gave a little respite from the sun, partially shading the sunken deck. She walked across it, mentally ticking off the ideas she’d had about the events that could be held: a book club or a visiting author, ideas that had already been flagged within the email communication before she’d arrived.

Beyond the palms that separated the bookshop clearing from the beach, the white sand was empty. It was a magical view that took her breath away. Maybe she could talk to Zander about setting up sunloungers on the beach to encourage guests to use it as a private reading spot. However much she liked the idea of keeping the place to herself, it wasn’t why she was here, and it wasn’t like she could use it to sunbathe. Taking a break and having a walk was one thing, but this place was for the guests – everything on the island was tailored for their comfort and enjoyment, that much was obvious, and she was now a part of that. Brimming with ideas, Freya headed back to the welcome coolness of the bookshop, opened up the laptop and started writing them down.

~

Apart from spotting a couple walking hand in hand along the edge of the shore, Freya managed to go the whole day without seeing anyone. She’d finished unpacking the books and had made a plan, so the last thing to do before going back to the staff village was to clear away the empty boxes. Hidden among the trees to the rear of the shop was a fenced-in area containing refuse and recycling bins and a fire hydrant. It was camouflaged by wooden fencing and the surrounding undergrowth and she only knew it was there because Meena had been thorough about showing her everything. She stacked the folded wooden boxes in the recycling bin and locked the door to the area behind her.

It was only five-thirty but it felt much later because the sun was already beginning to set. A wash of silvery pink streaked across the darkening sky. Freya paused before leaving the clearing. It hardly felt like she’d done a day’s work, the experience was so completely different to a working day back home.

After the peace of the bookshop, it was a shock to reach the hubbub of the staff village. She passed a couple of staff on the path, neatly dressed in their smart deep-blue or